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Squall Leonhart meets the Headless Horseman[02.23.01] » by Dark Moogle Squall Leonhart readjusted his pack as he bent down to examine the signpost. 'Sleepy Hollow, Pop. 578' He straightened and looked around. He checked into a room and sat down at the bar. The bartender came over.
"Passing through?"
Squall nodded. "I was separated from some friends, I'm still trying to
figure out exactly where I am." It was the truth.
He nodded. "Good. Personally, I'd stay in the building while you wait. The
forest has taken more travelers lately."
Squall raised an eyebrow. "Taken...?"
He nodded, then leaned in close. "Since as long as I can remember, stories
of ghosts in the woods have floated around the village. I usually ignore
them, but last month a man stumbled out of the woods with a bad wound on his
neck. While the doctor was bandaging it, he muttered something about a
'headless horseman' before falling unconscious. He died a week later without
ever regaining consciousness. Since then, more people have disappeared in
the woods, and new stories have sprung up about it.
Squall sat for a moment in thought. A ghost who'd been making people
disappear for years? "Sounds… intriguing." And it was. Ghosts usually have a
bit of magic about them. If there was even a chance it could help him get
back…
He thanked the bartender and stood. He moved upstairs to his room, dropped
his pack, and fell asleep.
When he awoke, it was just past sunset. About the time he'd wanted to get
up. After getting dressed and strapping the Lionheart to his side, he
stashed his bag behind some towels and left. As he hit the edges of the
northern forest, he looked around. Nobody was in the streets at all. Even
the animal life seemed to be hiding beyond the edge of the forest.
He took a hint and moved on quietly. As he traveled, faint sounds of a
horse began edging around his range of hearing, but nothing revealed itself.
He came to a fork in the road. Right, left, or back. Back was out of the
question, and right seemed too... dark.
Left it was. However, as he traveled, the path narrowed, and the trees
overhead grew thicker. Before long, only faint glimpses of the full moon
could be seen.
Every sense in his body told him to move, and as he did, the faint horse
sound which had been following him again suddenly grew louder and faster. As
he hit the edges of the trees, the sword moved out of its sheath and to a
ready position.
A flare of red and a large black shape raced past him, and he leapt out
onto the trail as it turned around. The red flare solidified.
It was a flaming pumpkin, held by a large, burly man who happened to be
missing his head. He rode on a large black Arabian horse. The horse's eyes
glowed red, and it's mane gave off a reddish light as well. The hooves
glowed red-hot and gave off sparks as it walked. A Nightmare.
The horseman shifted the pumpkin, and Squall caught sight off a six-foot
long piece of steel held in the other hand. The huge sword would have taken
Squall two hands to even try to wield; yet the horseman held it in one hand
with no problems at all. The sword was stained black and reflected little
light.
The two stood there on the path, the horseman looking (?) down at him,
Squall standing at the ready, staring up at the ghost. It didn't seem to be
one for talking to, if it could talk at all.
Squall moved first. He jumped forward, trying to knock the pumpkin out of
its hand. The horseman whipped the horse around and charged off down the
trail. Squall recovered and took off in pursuit. Squall chased the ghost
down the trail for several yards before stopping. The horse had disappeared
along with the rider. He strained his ears for any sound.
As soon as the first hoof hit the ground behind him, he threw himself
backwards and into a roll, narrowly missing the sword that swung past his
head. It would have taken it off had he not moved. He got himself up and
balanced on one foot for a split second before propelling himself forward.
He landed at a sprint, only a yard or so behind the horse. He jumped
forward, bringing the sword around. It slashed the horse's backside, cutting
open the flesh. Squall was not surprised, however, when no blood came out.
He'd heard of Nightmares.
However, the horse didn't take it well. It whinnied and stood up, but the
horseman stayed on its back with a practiced precision. He managed to turn
the horse around while it was up, and swung down with the horse, trying
again to take Squall's head off.
This time, the blade connected on his shoulder. He felt warm blood flow
down his arm as he picked himself up off the ground. A snickering sound came
from the horseman, though Squall wasn't exactly sure from where. He fought
through the pain and threw himself at the horseman again.
It wasn't ready for him to come again so fast. He swung three times, which
had won for him many a fight. The first hit knocked the sword down and out
of the way. The second hit connected with the pumpkin, and red energy poured
out of the hole. He made the third hit without even thinking about how
stupid it was.
After he recovered from the worthless swing through the head area, he was
forced to take up pursuit again as the ghost galloped off, this time through
the woods and off the trail. The two dodged trees left and right as they
continued through the seemingly endless woods. Finally, the trees ended in a
clearing. The clearing had a pond and several small hills, but neither
really noticed. It would have made a nice picnic spot, probably.
The horseman, not knowing how far behind Squall was, turned the horse
around. Squall was right there, and with three quick swipes had removed the
horse's head. The horse tumbled to the ground, and the horseman jumped off,
black cloak flying in the pale moonlight. He swung one hand and threw the
pumpkin across the clearing. It exploded against a tree, which fell over and
landed across the clearing.
Squall jumped at him again, completely ignoring the wound. It was still
bleeding freely. The sword came up and around, trying to fake out the
horseman. Before he could finish the feint, he was forced to come down to
block the black blade that came at him. His sword deflected the blade, but
knocked him completely off balance. The horseman, covered in black armor and
the cloak, had incredible strength. He stepped back, regaining his balance,
and waited for the horseman to strike again. He did, swinging down to try to
remove his arm. Squall sidestepped and attempted the same thing.
The horseman was quick too. He sidestepped as well, and tried the same
thing yet again. Squall just barely recovered from his swing in time to
dodge. Before either could recover entirely, he jumped and swung wildly at
the horseman's legs. It landed hard, but rolled forward and swung at
Squall's chest, connecting.
Squall fell backwards, clutching at his new wound, first with his left arm,
then his right. Blood from the first wound mixed with fresh blood. The
horseman stood and looked at his opponent, expecting him to die easily.
Squall shook his head, as blood from some other wound dripped down into his
face. He couldn't die here... not with all his people depending on him for
help. Time Compression had started, and if he didn't get back, everyone he'd
ever known and millions he never would know would die.
...All those people...
...Millions of lives... and he would fail them all by dying here...
No... I'm not going to fail... "I won't fail them!!!" He screamed it with
such fury that the horseman moved back a step. Squall Leonhart leaped to his
feet and jumped at the ghost, battering him from all sides with a constant
flurry of swordstrikes. Then, after it blocked upwards, he brought it back
around and hit it from the bottom, sending it and the arm back behind the
ghost. He gave a triumphant yell and swung with every ounce of strength at
the center of the chestplate.
Then did it again.
And again.
Again.
Finally, it fell backwards onto its back; one arm and sword pinned beneath
it.
"Enough." The ghost flicked Squall away with no effort, stood, and sheathed
the sword. A snap of the fingers and the Nightmare stood up, head completely
regrown. Neither showed any signs of the fight before.
Squall stared, sword still at the ready, completely dumbfounded.
"You fight well, Squall Leonhart." He didn't even ask how it knew his name,
nor how it spoke. "I am immortal, though, so it was all in vain." It
remounted its horse, new pumpkin in hand. "Don't argue. If I'd wanted you
dead, you never would have been given the chance to move back on the trail.
Even the man who escaped me a month ago, I let go. People have been afraid
of this forest for so long, I haven't had a good fight in centuries. You
gained a few interesting scars and an interesting story to tell your
children."
Squall returned his sword to his belt wordlessly. "Smart man. Now, go.
Millions depend upon your success. You have long before you may rest." It
waved its hand and a portal opened behind it. On the other side, Squall
could make out the other members, each resting and waiting for Squall.
Squall began to enter the portal, then hesitated and turned. "Why did I end
up here? We all should've ended up where we wanted to go."
The horseman stopped, already halfway across the clearing. "Search deep
within yourself. You may find that the one thing you've been searching for
all your life is a challenge."
Squall opened his mouth to protest, then closed it. It was right, of
course. He turned back towards the portal and rejoined his friends.
-------
One of my better ones, in my opinion, even if it wasn't originally written
for Squall. No, this was originally for my own character, but I realized I
haven't posted any fanfics online in months. So, I sat down in study hall
the other day and modified this one for 'public consumption'. Any comments,
Email me at the_darkmoogle@hotmail.com
Copyright 2000/2001, Darkmoogle
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